It Happened to Nancy

It Happened to Nancy

by Beatrice Sparks
It Happened to Nancy

It Happened to Nancy

by Beatrice Sparks


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The editor of the classic GO ASK ALICE has compiled the poignant journals of a 14-year-old date-rape victim who contracted AIDS and died.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780380773152
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 12/28/2004
Series: Confident Collector
Edition description: Reissue
Pages: 304
Sales rank: 423,375
Product dimensions: 4.19(w) x 6.75(h) x (d)
Lexile: 790L (what's this?)
Age Range: 12 - 17 Years

About the Author

Beatrice Sparks is a family and adolescent therapist who edited the diary that formed the basis for Go Ask Alice, and has since edited many diaries on topics such as gangs, AIDS, and teen pregnancy in the 1988 Annie's Baby. She lives in Provo, UT.

Read an Excerpt

Saturday, April 14

8:01 A.M.

I can't believe it. Tonight's the night I've beenwaiting for forever. At least it seems like foreversince February 10, when El's Aunt Pauline picked upthe tickets. Imagine me going to a concert. A GarthBrooks concert! A few months ago El and Red andDorie and I whined and nagged and groaned andmoaned because we weren't allowed to go to the U2concert. Now we're going to see Garth! Garth? Iheard on television that he's and he jumps off a high platform, grabs a rope and swings high out over the audience, with strobe lights flashing in all different colors and everything looking sort of smoky. Plus all sorts of other wild, woolly and wacky stuff. It's going to be almost like going to a real rock concert, which, boo-hoo, none of our mothers will allow us to attend.

6:45 P.M.

Oh chips, isn't it strange how slowly time goes by when you want it to go fast and bow fast it goes when YOU want it to go slow? Anyway ... for now ... life is great! ... it's good! ... it's wonderful! ... it's fun! ... it's fab! ... it's sunshiny inside!—and why don't they come? Why, why, WHY? WHY don't they huffy up and pick me up? I've tried on everything in my closet, plus every combination of everything in my closet, and I've redone my hair 97 1/2 times.

Oops, there's the doorbell. My chariot and my friends have arrived. I, Cinderella, am off to the ball.

2 A.M.

It's 2 A.M., and I can't sleep. I don't think I'll ever sleep again. I can't believe what happened tonight. It was like a movie, only better and louder and more exciting than any movie could ever be! Red and El and Dorie and I walkinginto the concert auditorium trying to look like we weren't excited! So excited that we could hardly keep from jumping up and down and squealing!! We were also pretending Aunt Pauline wasn't with us. And grown-uply endeavoring not to giggle-but that was impossible! There was so much excitement in the air that you couldn't help feel it. I mean REALLY feel it, like it was crunchy fall leaves or soft cloth or something ... maybe solid but squishy or gauzy and wispy and changing, ever changing, like a planet or galaxy weaving through space.

When the strobe lights turned on, they flashed absolutely through my body. We were sitting next to a big speaker, and the music pierced every molecule in me. It was mag! Really magnif! I was part of it, and it was part of me, a new dimension!

Then, uggggg, about halfway through the concert a couple of rednecks came in and tried to sit in front of us. They said those were their seats. The. people sitting there said they weren't. A scuffle started. Almost immediately cops appeared from nowhere and literally surrounded the area. Aunt Pauline tried to herd El and Red and Dorie and me away from the confusion, but, wouldn't you know it, I fell down. For a moment I was panic-stricken because people were almost walking on me, and someone grabbed my purse. Then I didn't even care about that. I just wanted to crawl out of there alive. When I finally got out of the line of fire, I tried to get the attention of a policeman to tell him about my purse, but they were either trying to get people to sit down as they dragged the two nutsos away, or they were trying to get back to their own posts.

Amazingly, most of the auditorium wasn't even aware that there was a problem-they kept it so isolated. I leaned against a post, trying to become invisible, because I had started to have an asthma attack. I was so terrorized I couldn't breathe, and I was alone! More alone in those thousands of people than I had ever been in my life. I was hyperventilating and about to pass out, and no one seemed to care. They didn't want me, or anything else, for that matter, to interfere with their wild and woolly enjoyment.

Just as I was beginning to feel the blackness dragging me completely under, I sensed a soft hand on my shoulder and a gentle voice whispering in my ear, "Relax, relax. I'll get you out into the center hall, where you can sit down and get some air ... shh ... relax ... relax. You'll be all right.... I'll take care of you.

He put his arm around my waist, and we walked down, down, down, down the endless rows of stairs. It hadn't seemed like there were nearly as many when we came up.

By the time we got out into the foyer, I felt better. My hysterical terror was being replaced by a calm peace. The guy said he was Collin Eagle. He sat me on a bench and brought me a Coke, then began softly rubbing my back and quietly telling me to "relax ... relax" ... and I did! How could I not with his soft voice and his positive presence?

We moved over by the fountain, and it was nice. The music from the concert drifted out to us, and the dripping and the splashing of the water seemed to take over the melody line.

Collin and I talked like we had known each other forever, and I, who have always felt uneasy with boys, felt completely comfortable and comforted.

How could I have felt any other way? He had saved me.

We talked for a long time, waiting for Aunt Pauline to come down. Collin said she eventually had to come into the main hall looking for me.

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